Short Balsa Poems

Lightning’s flash,
shows me where to hide,
when the thunder comes.

Tell me, which is more devine,
the radiant curve,
or the simple line?

In the land of Balsa,
the elders know
not to hind in their homes
when the big storm comes....

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The wind on top of the mountain
Is just right for flying my kite.
No, it’s not a store bought item
I made it from old newspapers,
Elmer’s glue and old balsa wood
Spine and spar sticks from last years kite.
Now here I am again ready
To launch it on its maiden flight.
I hope the tail isn’t too long;
The bridle string is sufficient.
Well, here goes! Come on baby fly!
That’s it! You want more string? Up! Up!
Easy does it! Straighten out babe!
That’s it! That’s it! You’re on your own....

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